


Angel

by MissDoodle



Category: Digimon Adventure
Genre: AU, F/M, WizGato - Freeform, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 09:40:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10303751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissDoodle/pseuds/MissDoodle
Summary: Her face plate is cast aside, and blue eyes fall on him. His angel stands, wings folded in the moonlight, splendid and sublime. She watches him, head canted gently to one side, and when he cannot find the strength to move, she crosses the distance to him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Started this a while ago and finally finished. I headcanon Wizardmon’s Perfect/Ultimate form as Reapmon, so I suppose this is technically WizGato, but as Ultimates rather than Champions.
> 
> So yeah.
> 
> Enjoy this shameless fluff

Reapmon steadies himself. He has often dreamed of a night like this. Of hot breath against his neck, face pressed into her golden hair. His arms slide around her. She is slender, and lithe; standing tall on long, strong legs. Her hands, eggshell white, lift to cup his face. She whispers to him in a long forgotten tongue. Pink lips brush the shell of his pointed ear and he shudders.

A click. the sound of her belts coming undone. They clatter to the floor with a sound like wedding bells chiming. Then off goes her sash, her satin glove. Off go the boots and ribbons.

Reapmon feels his heart grow still as the last of her garments rustle and shift, carelessly discarded. Her face plate is cast aside, and blue eyes fall on him. His angel stands, wings folded in the moonlight, splendid and sublime. She watches him, head canted gently to one side, and when he cannot find the strength to move, she crosses the distance to him.

In whispers she utters his name. Her hand lifts to touch his face, but finds his mask instead.

“May I?”

She takes his silence for consent, and when she moves to remove his mask he does not stop her.

“I wish you wouldn’t hide.”

Slender fingers brush the curve of his cheek. Reapmon captures them in his own, brings them to his lips, and kisses them. Slate grey lips ghost across the delicate ridge of her knuckles.

His angel smiles at him, and for that moment he feels the breath catch in his throat. How it was that she could look on a face so dark and grizzly and answer with kindness, he will never understand, and he does not care to. She loves him, and that is more than enough.

In silence, he bares himself. Cape and vest, tunic and turban, all cast aside. He is an ugly thing: corpse grey, and gangly, and long in all the wrong places. A lesser being would turn from him in disgust, but not her. When they touch she does not shudder, and when they kiss, he feels the warmth of her envelope him.

Her arms go round him and she draws him close. White fingers weave into his hair. He feels her breasts on him, her skin against his own; feels the rhythm of her heartbeat.

His cape lay splayed on earth and they fall upon it; she above, and he below. Her wings spread like a lotus bloom; their shadow falls upon him and he feels at peace. He whispers, breathless, and gazing into heaven.

“I love you.”

She descends, and heaven answers.


End file.
